


Because He Forgave

by waywardriot



Series: Vanven Week 2018 [6]
Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Recovery, VanVen Week 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-28 04:52:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17176262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardriot/pseuds/waywardriot
Summary: Because Ventus forgave Vanitas, he showed him how to forgive himself.Vanven Week Day 6: Forgiveness





	Because He Forgave

**Author's Note:**

> oops! another sora's heart story from vanitas's perspective. sorry if it's getting repetitive, i just love writing his recovery this way.
> 
> this runs alongside my day 2 and day 4 fics!  
> day 2: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17109806  
> day 4: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17142380
> 
> the inspiration for the concept of darkness leaking out of vanitas physically comes from a concept by olivemeister!

Because Ventus forgave Vanitas, he showed him how to forgive himself.

Ventus was aware more than anyone of all the horrible things Vanitas had done. Pulled his family apart, played a part in them falling to darkness, trying to kill them all constantly, forcing him to destroy their hearts. Vanitas was the reason they were trapped.

At first, Ventus had complicated thoughts about forgiveness. The way Vanitas thought he did nothing wrong angered him, until he realized—Vanitas was just a manipulated child, and he did as he was told. He lived an infinitely harder life than he himself had, and it was truly unfair. Vanitas didn’t deserve anger; he deserved to be happy.

Ventus’s forgiveness came in many forms. He couldn’t not forgive him—Vanitas was his other half, someone he needed more than anything, so there was no way he could leave him behind to keep suffering. All Ventus wanted to do was help Vanitas heal so he could live a normal life.

Vanitas had a harder time with forgiveness. The thing was, it wasn’t really Ventus he needed to forgive as much as it was trust. Mostly, it was himself he had to forgive, and that would never be an easy process.

* * *

Because Ventus forgave Vanitas, he showed him how he empathized.

When Vanitas first arrived in Sora’s heart, he was truly convinced he had done nothing wrong—he was simply doing what would complete him, what would give him happiness, right? Who could fault him for that? And Ventus didn’t. He was angry, sure, and they yelled at each other many times, but he tried to make sure Vanitas knew he understood and didn’t blame him. Vanitas partially _wanted_ Ventus to blame him, to become angry at him; for him to act otherwise meant that Vanitas had been manipulated and used by the only person in his life.

Ventus’s empathy angered Vanitas because he could never really understand the sheer hell Vanitas had lived. He was furious because Ventus got to have a good life; yes, he was still shattered, but it was luxury compared to what Vanitas had. He had friends—a found family—that loved him and took care of him. He had a master who taught him gently, never harming him out of malice. He had a room and a bed and his own belongings. Vanitas could feel the echoes of the happiness in his chest, but all it did was hurt; it didn’t spread the good feelings to him at all, just made him jealous.

He screamed at Ventus for that many times. When Ventus tried to empathize, he yelled and screamed and shrieked until it felt like his throat was bleeding. He made Ventus cry with the force of his emotions; he wept when he heard about Vanitas sleeping on the floor, how he was left alone in the desert for weeks on end, how he was hit over and over and over by the one who was supposed to protect him. 

Vanitas took glee in his pain at first—it hit him too, but he was so used to sadness that it didn’t even make him stumble. He thought Ventus deserved it, deserved to feel the endless pain that his existence composed of. It didn’t occur to him that empathy was meant to help—rather, it felt like a cruel mockery, pretending that he was sad about what happened to Vanitas. No one cared about what happened to an abomination.

Still, even as Vanitas mocked and laughed at him, Ventus wiped away his own tears and forgave him. He faced Vanitas with fire in his eyes and told him he knew he was good, and he wasn’t going to stop until he knew it.

Vanitas laughed at him and told him to fuck off. 

His own empathy wouldn’t come just yet; he still hadn’t learned to trust Ventus or forgive himself.

* * *

Because Ventus forgave Vanitas, he showed him how he wasn’t alone.

When Ventus wasn’t able to help through empathizing, he simply spent time with Vanitas. That also endlessly pissed Vanitas off, as he was a person accustomed to being alone. For four years of his life, all he knew was his master, and even then he was alone far too often. He had grown to thrive in the silence and the isolation, and it almost put him on edge to have someone else around.

At first, Ventus merely sat near him, following him like a lost puppy everywhere he went; the island wasn’t very big at all, so Vanitas really couldn’t escape him for long. Ventus found every new hiding place like there was a red string tying their hearts together (and maybe there was).

Vanitas had tried physically pushing him away at first, attacking him when he came too close. Maybe that would’ve worked in the real world, but in this prison that didn’t obey the laws of the world, there was no pain and no wounds. Their bodies were projections of their hearts, so there was nothing to really hurt. Because of this, Ventus being beat up was just an inconvenience, and he’d stare at Vanitas with a sad look in his eyes until Vanitas wanted to vomit.

Still, even as Vanitas hit him until he cried out of frustration, he helped Vanitas up and forgave him because he knew his aggression came out of pain.

Eventually, Vanitas grew bored of fighting him off. It got tiring, especially given that his real life had only ever been fighting over and over and over until he collapsed from exhaustion. As long as Ventus was quiet, he allowed him to sit with him. In the Badlands, the only sounds had been his monsters and the wind blowing endlessly. Here, Ventus was overwhelming; he spoke too loudly, laughed too much. He tried to show his forgiveness through conversation. His willingness to spill his soul to Vanitas showed he trusted him. Vanitas hated it.

There really wasn’t a good way to make Ventus shut up—he tried doing it by force, literally wrestling him until he was sitting on his chest with his hands covering Ventus’s mouth, but still he would not quiet. With laughter in his eyes, he would cheerfully yell through Vanitas’s hands until Vanitas got irritated and let him up to go run off. Still, Ventus would always follow. 

Vanitas grew to tolerate the talking, although he still hated it. It had started out slowly, tolerating Ventus saying single words at a time. If Ventus said too much, Vanitas would leave, so he would take mental note—unless he particularly felt like bothering Vanitas. 

Even when Vanitas let Ventus talk, he still didn’t reply. He didn’t want to encourage Ventus, so he kept quiet in the hopes that it would stop him, but it never did. Ventus was an encyclopedia of topics, and there was always something new for him to talk about. He learned to live with Ventus as constant background noise, and he wouldn’t admit it, but it eventually became comforting.

* * *

Because Ventus forgave Vanitas, he showed him how to communicate.

When Vanitas did start replying, it was exclusively in the form of insults. Vile things would come out of his mouth, reflections of the things he’d been told and the words that bounced around in his head. Ventus was strong, but not always strong enough to withstand Vanitas, so he did cry on occasion. Still, he refused to let that stop him, yelling at Vanitas that he knew he was better. He knew insults were all Vanitas knew.

Ventus slowly wore him down, but Vanitas couldn’t get more than a few amicable words out at first; Ventus had to coax him on and on, tearing it out of his throat word by word. It did help, but Vanitas felt foolish for it because it was so unfamiliar. He’d never been taught how to actually communicate because monsters don’t talk, only hurt. Though, as wrong as it felt, it did feel nice to not be completely alone for once in his life. 

Talking led to releasing emotions, and Vanitas’s released in explosive ways. He couldn’t create his monsters from his body—it was an illusion created by his heart—so he tried to keep his feelings in at first. It was like trying to plug up a leak in the ocean with a bit of tape, and it pressed more and more until it exploded. A mockery of the darkness burst forth from him, streaming out of his very pores and creeping out of every crevice—even underneath his nails. He choked and seized and screamed as it streamed out of him. 

He learned that talking about his feelings kept the darkness at bay, but it was still hard to do; for some time, Vanitas spent more time sobbing into his hands than actually speaking. He felt so impossibly weak, but Ventus told him he was so strong and that it helped to let it out. Vanitas didn’t believe him, but he hoped he would one day. It did at least ease the aching of his heart, removing some of the pressure when he screamed his problems into the sky. It also helped him realize just how wrong everything he had done was—he was wracked with guilt, but Ventus assured him it was necessary.

Even when Vanitas fell into scarily explosive fits about his trauma, Ventus always listened; the fact Vanitas was willing to speak meant he was learning to trust. 

Talking about his feelings led to being able to actually hold conversations. When his mind wasn’t completely clouded by pain and anger, he could talk about normal things; he could be reciprocal towards Ventus, talking about his own wants and dreams and likes and dislikes. He didn’t know the meaning, but Ventus truly had transformed from enemy to best friend and confidant.

* * *

Because Ventus forgave Vanitas, he showed him what touch was supposed to be like.

As Vanitas slowly tempered down day by day, Ventus tried to show his forgiveness through physical touch. It went terribly at first, nearly reverting Vanitas back to square one as he wept in terror at the feeling, so sure that he was going to be hurt again. 

Ventus was terrified himself, but he knew the outburst wasn’t out of malice. He cleaned Vanitas off without touching him, letting him know that it was okay for him to hurt. Because Ventus forgave him, he refused to give up on it.

Vanitas grew to accept the touch, little bits at a time. It grew from small touches, Ventus making sure to move at the correct pace. When he held Vanitas’s hand for the first time, Vanitas’s hand shook, but he held on as tightly as ever; Ventus could feel the trust and forgiveness in his heart, even if Vanitas didn’t know what it was. 

Ventus had to teach Vanitas that his physical contact meant he cared for him, that he wanted him to be okay. It was a way for them to feel close, and it made Ventus feel better, so maybe it would work for Vanitas.

When Vanitas initiated physical contact for the first time, Ventus nearly cried because he was so happy that he had made it that far. The small, shaky hug was a beacon of Vanitas’s trust, and it was the most beautiful thing for Ventus. As Vanitas grew comfortable, he came to Ventus more and more, knowing he could trust him to comfort him. He craved it, being happiest when he felt Ventus’s warmth—he didn’t realize it, but this was his love.

The more trust they built, the more conversations they had, Vanitas letting out his emotional turmoil in Ventus’s arms under the cover of darkness.

“Why do you forgive me?” Vanitas whispered. 

“You’re in so much pain. You did what you thought had to happen so you wouldn’t be hurting anymore.”

Fisting a hand in his hair, he sighed shakily. “I never changed or stopped hurting you, even when you forgave me.”

“You did stop hurting me, though, idiot,” Ventus smiled. “You talk to me. You let me hold you even when you’re terrified. That’s completely different than how you were when you arrived.”

“I still feel like a monster. I’m still made out of evil,” Vanitas halfway whimpered. 

“Darkness isn’t evil!” Ventus said forcefully, startling Vanitas just a little. “We all have darkness, and you can have it and still be a good person. Terra is proof of that, and so are you. I know you’re a good person because of the way you treat me, even when you used to hate me.

“Yeah, the darkness will always be a part of you. That does suck, but you’re learning how to not let it cloud you. It doesn’t define you any more than being light defines me because we’re both something more.”

“You’re too good to me,” Vanitas sniffled, drawing Ventus closer to his chest. “I don’t know how I can ever pay you back.”

Ventus murmured, “All I want… is for you to forgive yourself.”

Vanitas wiped his eyes, tears starting to fall. “I want to so bad. I’m just terrified of hurting you again.”

“You’ll hurt me again, but I’ll hurt you too. That’s what life is, and the important thing is that we both learn and forgive each other at the end of the day.”

“Okay,” Vanitas sighed. “I’ll try.”

And Vanitas did try. He was trying harder than anything, but it still hurt.

* * *

Because Ventus forgave Vanitas, he showed him how to overcome his insecurity.

Ventus told Vanitas he was wonderful over and over, but when he looked at his reflection in the water, all he saw was a monster. He could still feel the darkness crawling underneath his skin, threatening to take control of his body like an empty suit. Try as Ventus may, it wasn’t something he could ever understand.

Ventus wasn’t made of evil like him (Ventus always told him darkness wasn’t evil, but he wasn’t sure if he believed it yet). He wasn’t raised by someone who wanted to cause a war. He didn’t try to kill people just because he was ordered to do so. He was so _pure_ , and Vanitas was terrified of tainting him. 

His insecurity was set deep, but Ventus kept trying. Kissing made Vanitas feel warmer than ever, and he really felt like he trusted Ventus when he did it. The world felt more real, it made more sense when he was tangled up in Ventus. He felt impossibly safe, as if Ventus could pull him out if his darkness leaked out of the cracks. He became almost… addicted to it. He craved that closeness in a way he couldn’t describe.

It was scary, being so intimate with someone, but he needed it so badly. It became another way of showing his trust to Ventus; he trusted Ventus to be kind to him and not point out his weaknesses, and he never did. Sure, they bickered and insulted each other in their own special way, but it wasn’t in a truly mean way. Vanitas had had enough of being mean to Ventus for a lifetime, so his ‘stupid’s and ‘idiot’s were always laden with affection.

* * *

Because Ventus forgave Vanitas, he showed him how to love.

It was natural when Ventus dropped that he loved Vanitas—really, anyone who wasn’t Vanitas (ever ignorant of emotions) would have been able to see it. It was also blatantly obvious that Vanitas loved him back—Ventus was fully aware—but he didn’t know what love really meant. Out of all the emotions that Ventus had taught him, love was the most confusing and most intimidating.

Even when Vanitas didn’t know what it was, he was still scared that he _did_ love Ventus because it was such an intimate experience. It was something he couldn’t take back, something that would be attached to both of them forever, just like their trauma. It was scary because it was so powerful and having that power over Ventus could make him easier to hurt. He had to guess, though, that if Ventus did it, then it wasn’t all bad.

Ventus explained love over and over, but Vanitas didn’t understand it until he looked at his experiences; it wasn’t a simple definition, but rather a lifestyle. It was a way of being for Vanitas—the air he breathed, the words he spoke, the time he slept. When he thought about it, he realized there was no way he couldn’t love Ventus. It was an inevitable, like the days turning over and the planets orbiting.

He woke Ventus up desperately and kissed his love onto his skin, vowing to never turn back. His love vowed his trust to Ventus, and giving him this beating part of his heart showed how much he meant it.

* * *

Because Ventus forgave Vanitas, he showed him how to forgive himself.

Ventus and Vanitas continued their night conversations, Vanitas most able to talk about his feelings when Ventus couldn’t see his face, the way he blushed or the way he cried.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know if I can ever forgive myself…” Vanitas whispered so quietly that Ventus had to strain to hear it.

He brought Vanitas’s hand to his mouth to kiss it. “You don’t have to do it for me. I’ll love you no matter what. Forgiveness just means that you’ll live more easily.”

“I don’t know how you forgave me. I love you so much, so I’m terrified of hurting you again.”

Ventus sighed and took a long look at Vanitas, cradling his cheek. “You had your reasons—not good reasons, but I understand why you did what you did. You were manipulated, but you’ve learned so much! I’m so proud of you for how you’ve grown and learned to live.”

Vanitas, ever a man of many words, snorted. “You’re stupid.”

“Stupid in love,” Ventus corrected. “I’m right, though.”

Vanitas rolled his eyes and kissed him—he didn’t need to answer, as that was all the affirmation Ventus needed.

Forgiveness is a hard thing, and Vanitas learned that the hard way. He still wasn’t sure about it, but he put up with it because he had Ventus by his side. Ventus wasn’t just his other half; he was part of him, intertwined with his whole being so much that Vanitas would lose himself without him. He entirely owed this fulfilling existence to Ventus, so he was willing to try anything to pay him back.

Vanitas knew he trusted Ventus, and Ventus told him forgiveness would be okay, so he trusted that he could learn forgive himself in the way he deserved.


End file.
